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Suddenly, Daniel broke cover and ran to Sergei before Edward could even react fast enough to grab him. His heart stopped for a second as several more shots rang out, sending up bits of gravel as they dug into the ground, narrowly missing him. Daniel slid to a stop, kneeling next to Sergei.
“Goddammit, Daniel!” Edward growled the second he could get air into his lungs.
Daniel ignored him as he pulled off his belt and wrapped it around Sergei’s thigh. He tightened it, creating a makeshift tourniquet to slow his blood loss.
“I need to find this asshole. Can you tell your man not to shoot at me?” Edward demanded.
Sergei hissed as he tried to look around the planter. “My man has already left to find your shooter.”
“We didn’t bring him,” Daniel said.
“But your people created this mess. He’s your shooter.”
Edward couldn’t stand to have Daniel away from him. He needed to find better cover while the gunman was still on the loose. Sirens cried out softly in the distance but were getting closer. Fuck. He couldn’t wait. Edward darted from cover. At the same time, more bullets rang out. Hot pain sliced across his shoulder, and he clenched his teeth to keep from shouting out. Grabbing Daniel, he pulled the man away from Sergei and over to the wide trunk of a tree. One more bullet thunked angrily into the wood; then the shooting stopped.
“You idiot! You got shot!” Daniel cried. He shifted against Edward, pushing him back as he searched his person. “I need something to stop the bleeding.”
“It’s okay. It’s just a scratch,” he said, though the damn thing already hurt like hell. Blood was soaking into his shirt, and he had a feeling that he was going to need stitches.
“You couldn’t stay where you were,” Daniel grumbled. He pressed his hand against the wound to slow the bleeding. Edward winced at the increased pain but didn’t make a sound.
“You were out in the open. I was losing my fucking mind,” Edward snapped.
“As charming as this little tête-à-tête is,” Sergei drawled, “I think that’s our man.”
Edward looked up to where Sergei was pointing at a man running across the open grassy field between the château and the garden. He was too far away to catch up to, and pursuing would likely draw the attention of the French police, who were already closing in on their location.
From that distance, he could only make out some basic details. The shooter had been a white male with dark-brown hair. The gun had still been clenched in his right hand as he ran. His pace had been smooth and steady—someone who was accustomed to running, probably as exercise. There was something about the clothes and bearing. This hadn’t been some cheap, hired hitman. No, Edward was pretty sure they had just caught a glimpse of Kevin’s partner.
“Carlos,” Sergei said softly, drawing his attention back to the Russian. He had relaxed his posture against the pot a little more now that they were no longer in danger of being shot. His face was still pale and drawn with pain. “I’m giving you two days to get your house in order. It’s the best I can offer.”
Edward nearly sighed with relief. Sergei was going to hold off his people for two days. It was more than he really expected from him. Sergei was right that the information was a treasure trove that no foreign intelligence agency would pass up.
“Thank you.”
Sergei nodded to Daniel still pressed tightly between Edward’s chest and the tree. “Thank him.”
Edward looked down to see Daniel smirking up at him. Yeah, he couldn’t begin to explain how much he appreciated Daniel. The man was constantly reminding him that humanity and compassion were still needed in the world. He hated to think that he would have left Sergei to bleed out. There was no doubt in his mind that Sergei would have left him as well. It was how the game was played.
But regardless of their constant little chess moves, they were still human beings. Fuck, he needed Daniel to make him human again.Chapter FifteenCops swarmed the grounds of the château. Daniel and Edward happily played the part of innocent bystanders, worried about their companion who was shot in the leg. They then took a trip to the hospital to get Edward stitches. Luckily, the bullet had just grazed him.
His body held a couple of other scars, but there was one particular scar on his hip that Daniel now realized was from a bullet. He’d wondered about those marks before and should have realized that it was unlikely for an international businessman to have them. But he’d been blind to everything but their passion. Passion that only seemed to grow in intensity the more time he spent with him.
Such desire had never been a part of his life, and it was going to be hard to give Edward up. But he had to. The man traveled the world for his insane job, and Daniel was an accountant in Cincinnati. Could any two men come from such opposite worlds?
